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Monthly Archives: September 2012

When I tell you that You Are Stardust is a stunning book, you may think, “Yeah, yeah. Stunning, schmunning. People call books stunning all the time.” To which I reply, “No. I mean it. This book is stunning. Honest.” I don’t think I’ve been as blown away by the creativity and beauty of a book in quite a while. Elin Kelsey and Soyeon Kim should be getting some serious recognition for their work in this collaboration. This book will make kids think. It will make kids marvel. It will make them slow down and stare at the pages and then, hopefully, turn that wonder to the world around them.

I love it.

“You are stardust. Every tiny atom in your body came from a star that exploded long before you were born.”

This is where Elin Kelsey begins her exploration of all of the ways that we are a part of the earth and its cycles and communities. She writes with lovely directness, make each big idea clear as can be, putting them out there for kids to ponder and talk about. Indeed, the text is full of facts awesome enough to please any science geek. Did you know you sneeze with the force of a tornado, or that you’ll replace your skin 100 times by the time you turn ten? So, so cool. The best part of the words that fill this book is that they are all the more mind-blowing because they are simply describing what is. Our world, our earth, is mind-blowing, and I can’t think of another book for children that communicates this truth more effectively.

Soyeon Kim’s illustrations are tremendously creative and in a word, magical. If you take off the dust jacket and look on the reverse side, you’ll see pictures of the seven dioramas she created to be photographed for the book. I can’t think of the last time I saw something so unique and so perfectly suited to the atmosphere and feeling of the subject matter. Here’s a little look behind the scenes at Kim’s artistic process. Prepare to be amazed:

You Are Stardust is awesome, in the ideas that it offers to young readers, and the incredibly unique artwork. Jaw-dropping. Give it to everyone. Then hug a tree and whisper a few deep thoughts into the cosmos.

Bam. Done. Picture Book #30! I did it! It’s been fun gang. Thanks for reading this month.

Isn’t this exciting? Two picture book reviews in one day! The Elf is on fire! It’s easy to get pumped when I’ve made it all the way to Book 29 in my 30 Days, 30 Picture Books Challenge. (I’ve saved quite the book for my big finish tomorrow, so be sure to pop by).

Today’s title soars right off the charts on the cuteness scale. What else would you expect from the mega-talented, Caldecott Honor winner Patrick McDonnell? I imagine this one will be a favourite all year round, but I couldn’t think of a better book to buy for any little one you know this Halloween.

Grouch, Grump, and little Gloom n’ Doom may be little, but they are pretty serious about being Monsters. They huff and puff and get mad about everything. They smash and crash and bash and say NO a lot. So when they come up with a plan to create the baddest monster ever, you’d expect they’d be pretty good at it. As it turns out, their Monster is the worst monster possible. He is really nice. He’s polite. He likes jelly doughnuts and sunsets. He changes their lives, but not in the way they had expected.

It’s really hard to decide what I like the most about this book. The text is full of funny moments: “Big!” little Gloom squealed. “Bad!!” little Doom squeaked. “MONSTER!!!” they all cheered together. You just want to be reading it out loud to make the most of the jokes. The images are packed with sweet humour too, like when Monster goes all over the castle gently patting the bats and rats and spiders and snakes. In between laughs, the kids might think about the power of kindness, unexpected friendship, and what it means to enjoy life’s simple pleasures. The Monsters’ Monster proves that monsters can be awfully adorable, especially the kind who share their jelly doughnuts.

Yesterday was the kind of day that left me so tired that all I could manage by 10:00 pm was slouching over my computer keyboard watching animal videos (exhibit a, exhibit b). Sometimes when this happens I am stuck for a long time in the land of adorable, so I am happy to report that I am back with Picture Book 28, a little late, but so it goes.

The Tooth Mouse by Susan Hood is rather lovely. It makes me long for Paris and for the picture books of my youth, the ones that had lots of words so that they lasted long enough to disappear into them for a while. On a side note, I think it’s sad that it seems longer picture books are becoming rarer all the time. First off, I refuse to buy into the argument that parents don’t have the time or inclination in their jam-packed days to read them to their children. But even if you do believe that, what about kids reading them all by themselves? (*gasp*). I did. Some of my best reading memories from childhood are of the afternoons I hung out leaning against the bookcase in our basement, rereading all of my favourite long picture books. Books like this one:

I think that The Tooth Mouse could be this kind of book for many young readers. It’s a sweet fable about the quest of one small mouse to become the successor to the old Tooth Mouse. Sophie, an orphan mouse, lives high up in an ancient cathedral in France. She is full of spirit and she has dancing feet. One day, when the Tooth Mouse announces she is too old to continue her work exchanging coins for children’s baby teeth, Sophie could not be more excited. She is sure she could be the next Tooth Mouse. But it is not so simple as wanting it. The Tooth Mouse has created three tasks that will reveal the best mouse for the job, one who is brave, honest, and wise. It turns out Sophie is all of these things. She trusts her heart and finds her way.

Hood’s story and style is charming, old-fashioned but with enough flair to captivate a modern audience. The French asides scattered throughout add to the atmosphere and will surely add drama to story time. Who doesn’t love quest tales? There’s something supremely satisfying about seeing the cream rise to the top as the best mouse finds a way where others couldn’t. It’s a classic formula, and it’s done beautifully here.

Speaking of beautiful, the softness coupled with the fine lines and detail in Janice Nadeau’s illustrations will inspire readers to slow right down and notice every whimsical moment. The illustrations make me feel like this story should be brought to life in another form as a ballet for children.

A blend of old and new, familiar and quirky, The Tooth Mouse should live happily on children’s bookshelves (and in their laps) for a long, long time.

There’s nothing better than a good breakfast. I can celebrate any meal of the day, but breakfast is perhaps the best. All breakfast lovers have their perfect brekkie. Mine is a sit-down, knife and fork, sausage and eggs and toast and jam and roasted tomato and bottomless coffee, kind of breakfast. Recently I had all that with sautéed mushrooms and some delish maple baked beans too. Now that was a breakfast.

My ideal breakfast does not involve toads. EVER.

Linda Bailey’s new picture book, Toads on Toast, should make readers consider branching out into new breakfast territory, away from Rice Krispies and PB on toast and oatmeal, all the way to something they might never have considered before: Toad in the Hole.

Fox is tired of his usual recipe repertoire: “Catch a big fat toad. Bring it home. Skin it. Boil it. Eat it.” He needs a change. He finds inspiration at the cookbook store, in their extensive toad section. Apparently small, young, tender toads are where it’s at. One night, he captures some toadlets and brings them home. Just when things are about to get messy, Mamma toad arrives to save her babies and put a stop to Fox’s terrible plan. Mamma teaches Fox a secret family recipe for, you guessed it, Toad in a Hole. At first Fox is skeptical, but in the end, everything turns out deliciously. The book finishes off with a do-it-at-home recipe for Toad in a Hole (no toad required).

I am crazy about the cover. Colin Jack got it absolutely right with this image. Each one of the toadlets has a different expression, from pleading to clueless to terrified. The little details are really funny – one toad’s buck teeth, another’s wee baseball cap, and the bow in one girl toad’s hair. You know just by looking that the story is going to get you laughing. Kids will be hooting before they even make it to the first page, for sure. Those hilarious details continue throughout, particularly when Mamma toad arrives and all the little ones start creating chaos in Fox’s kitchen (buttery food fights, cupboard climbing using pieces of licorice tied together, using a gravy boat for a slide…).

Linda Bailey makes this one just as funny and sweet and kid friendly as her beloved Stanley books. Who knew toads could be so cute? I think I’ve mentioned before that a book gets immediate bonus points for me when it includes a recipe (or a whole stack of them). I like what the story suggests about the power of food to make friends of characters you’d never think could get along, let alone share a meal.

Toads on Toast is a delightfully silly, culinary romp that should, like all the best dishes, get better and better the more times it’s enjoyed. Best served with breakfast.

A final word on the glories of breakfast. Any breakfast fan should pop over to simply breakfast, the beautiful photography blog all about savouring the morning meal.

I never had a lemonade stand as a kid. (I know, I know, yesterday I was all complain-y about missing out on crafting during my childhood years. I promise I’m not going to moan about lemonade stands now). Kids who live at the end of long dirt roads in the country do not have lemonade stands. They also do not go hang out in their neighbour’s tree house after school, or get pizza delivery, or have more than one kid show up for trick-or-treating on Halloween. Country kids, like me, have other things – wonderful things like fireflies and their own ponds and bonfires and howling coyotes. But no lemonade stands. As it happens, this has not affected my ability to make prize-winning homemade lemonade. Because I never had the chance to run a lemonade stand as a child, I am completely helpless at resisting the sweet cries of, “Would you like some lemonade?” from the kids on my city street who run stands all through the summer. I am a guaranteed customer, even though their lemonade comes from a can and mine is “from scratch.”

Lemonade in Winter, by Emily Jenkins, illustrated by G. Brian Karas, follows Pauline and John-John, a bold sister and brother team, when they decide to have a lemonade stand in the middle of winter on a day when “a mean wind blows” and “icicles hang from the windowsills.” Their parents cannot dissuade them, indeed, nothing does. They hunt down all the loose change around their house, gather the ingredients from the corner store, make their drinks, and go out into the cold. Everyone thinks they’re crazy, but as it turns out, this doesn’t stop people in the neighborhood from stopping by. Throughout the story, Pauline tries to teach her little brother a thing or two about how money – and business – works. They bring in entertainment and decorations and decide to have a sale to inspire customers. In the end, they don’t make their money back, but they’ve learned a thing or two about making plans and making their own fun, seeing them through, and working together.

The sibling dynamic is right on. Pauline is a little bit bossy, but well-meaning, with her “let me show you how to do this John-John” attitude. John-John goes along for the ride with all the enthusiasm you could expect from a little brother, and comes up with good ideas of his own. Lessons about how money works, and the basics of a shopping transaction get woven into the story with subtlety. The last page of the book explains the coins and offers tips on how to remember what is what (American currency). It’s lovely to see Jenkins capture how for kids, a big idea or goal, is often something small. She shows kids how to break down a goal into stages and make it happen. Of course it’s nice to see home made fun from ordinary family life being celebrated. Karas’s muted artwork, smudgy with snowflakes, soft and pale and frosty-looking, makes this winter day and cozy community, come vividly to life. Read about his artistic process for the book here.

A great read for aspiring entrepreneurs and big dreamers, or for when the kids cry bored.

When you were a kid, were you a crafter? I was not. I would’ve been the type of kid who wanted to dump out everything from inside the crazy craft box so I could give it a good vacuum, and then put it all back, arranged according to colour or size or function. Unfortunately, I was a kid too concerned about making things perfect to be a free-spirited crafter. (Let’s pause here to sigh for the Elf’s lost youth). Now Beth, one of my two best friends in Grade 3, always seemed to be making stuff. When Beth showed off something homemade, it was cool. I was intrigued. Her Halloween costumes were legendary. Beth’s handmade stuff made making things seem almost like magic to me, out of reach, something reserved only for a special few. Beth had “it.” I did not. This hole in my childhood experience probably explains my reaction whenever I wander into an art supply store. I stand there, in front of the little bricks of rainbow Fimo and tiny tubes of paint and shiny tins of watercolour pencil crayons in every shade a girl could dream, of and I think, But not for me…

Things might have turned out differently, oh so differently, if only Crafty Chloe had been around when I was seven. Crafty Chloe by Kelly DiPucchio, illustrated by Heather Ross, celebrates individuality, ingenuity, googly eyes, and glitter. Chloe loves making stuff, and it’s one thing she’s really good at. She makes flowers out of coffee filters and one of a kind clothes for her dog and she believes that “anything becomes less boring with googly eyes on it.” So when she goes shopping for her friend Emma’s party and another girl nabs the present she was planning on getting, Chloe plays it cool. “I’m going to make her something special that you can’t even buy in a store,” she says. Turns out it’s easier said than done, but after a little hard work and some serious crafting skill, Chloe makes something amazing.

Things I love about Crafty Chloe:

Chloe reminds me of Clementine, including her kooky family and her orange curls

Her dog Bert has quite the repertoire of doggy facial expressions

Chloe’s rival is named London (can you say princess?) and her little dog is clearly evil

The phone number on the rent-a-pony truck parked at the curb for Emma’s birthday party is, “1-800-FAT-PONY”

Ross’s illustrations are cheery and fabulous, bright and dynamic

Chloe rises to the occasion at the end of the story when grace is required, and this seems entirely true to her nature, not neat-and-tidy and forced

I’ll just say it. I don’t think I’d change a thing here. This story, and Chloe, will skip straight into your heart and make you want to pull out that box of macaroni and design yourself a statement necklace. Who says it’s too late to embrace my inner crafter? (And if I’m really stuck, I can always head to craftychloe.com for some cool craft ideas, step by step, just the way I like it).

It’s the time of year when the teachers here at school start combing the library shelves for books about apples. Apple orchards, apple trees, apple pies, apple ABCs, apple everything. Soon, the little people will venture to the apple farm for hay rides and cider and some picking. Nikki McClure’s stunning little book, Apple, is now my new favourite apple-themed book, and it’s proof that it’s hard to get better than simple, done beautifully.

Working in black, white, and Macintosh red, McClure traces the journey of one perfect apple, from the beginning of fall, into a child’s lunch, to the compost heap, all the way through to the next spring. The story emerges mostly through the amazing paper cuts, which capture the community, energy, and warmth of fall in their bold, captivating simplicity. Each picture faces a single word in block letters to inspire the reader’s interpretation: FALL, FIND, SNEAK, HIDE, SECRET… This little book is meant to be read slowly, to be savoured. It ends with a lovely explanation of the life of an apple tree and the process of composting.

It’s interesting to note that there is a circularity to how this book came to be that echos the rhythms of nature portrayed here. On the last page, McClure shares that this book was her first book, self-published and handmade in 1996. She sold her copies in local bookstores. The opening image of the fallen apple under the tree was her very first paper cut. It’s amazing what grows from small beginnings.